


Madness

by werewolvesnotswearwolves (phantombride)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, classic wolfstar garbage, eventual smut...probably, friendships are beautiful and good, marauders marauding, my wonderful werewolf son, super duper slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-09-30 06:48:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10156604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantombride/pseuds/werewolvesnotswearwolves
Summary: The Hogwarts Express hadn’t been exactly how he imagined it, though things rarely were. The scarlet steam engine was infinitely more beautiful than he thought it would be, and it was teeming with far more people than he ever could have expected.A series of glimpses into the Hogwarts experience of one Remus John Lupin.





	1. Lions and Frogs

The Hogwarts Express hadn’t been exactly how he imagined it, though things rarely were. The scarlet steam engine was infinitely more beautiful than he thought it would be, and it was teeming with far more people than he ever could have expected.

 

He clutched the handle of his trunk tightly, and watched the sea of people move and part. He was very acutely aware that he didn’t know anyone in the large station. His parents had wanted to come, of course, but he begged them to stay outside the platform. It was time he learned to do things on his own, and they wouldn’t be able to accompany him to school, after all. As he looked around and saw all manner of parents kissing their children goodbye, fussing with their hair and clothes, rearranging their trunks, he realized he might have made a mistake.

 

It was okay, though. Remus was used to being alone. He knew the feeling well. He tried to make himself smaller than he already was to navigate the crowd, hoping no one would notice him. He made it onto the train without anyone stopping him, and for that he was grateful. The compartments were mostly full already, a consequence of him having been late. He might have saved some time had he not procrastinated on the platform, not wanting to say goodbye to his parents quite yet. He walked further and further down the train, briefly glancing to check each one before moving onto the next.

 

He had made it nearly down to the end of the train when he stumbled upon a compartment that wasn’t completely full. A boy he assumed was his age or maybe a year older sat alone, staring out the window. His blonde hair had been flattened to his head in a combover, and he was a little chubby for his age. He looked as out of place as Remus felt, and so he dragged his trunk in and sat across from him. He knew he ought to introduce himself, apologize for barging in, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he pulled his trunk close to his knees, and held it tight to his body, as though it would ground him.

 

The boy looked at him with amusement on his face. “You can put that up, or store it under your seat, you know.”

 

Remus had known, he had seen the other boy’s trunk stowed away. “Right. Thank you.” It was all he could think to say.

 

“Name’s Peter, by the way. Peter Pettigrew.” He extended a hand across for him to shake.

 

Remus, ever the master of social graces, released the handle of his trunk and realized his palms were sweaty. He wiped them off on his sweater before taking Peter’s hand. “Remus. Remus Lupin.” He offered a smile, which the other boy returned. Good. At least that wasn’t so bad. The silence that filled their compartment after their introduction was oddly comfortable. He got the idea that Peter was used to spending a lot of time alone as well.

 

Remus had been halfway into his trunk to retrieve a book when the compartment door opened again. The two boys who entered were in animated conversation, barely bothering to cast a glance at either Remus or Peter as they settled in.

 

“Oh, the Chudley Cannons are garbage, I like the Harpies, that Gwendolyn is something else -”

 

“At least the Cannons are funny, way more interesting to watch one of their matches, they haven’t won a game since before Hogwarts was founded.”

 

Both of the newcomers appeared to also be First Years, though they each had about a head of height on Remus. The first had messy black hair and glasses, he was half into his Hogwarts uniform already, and didn’t seem to notice or care that his cloak was hanging halfway off his shoulders. He was twirling his wand in his right hand, spinning it between his fingers, and he had been smiling since he entered the compartment. This is who took the seat next to him, and he scooted himself so far over to make room that he found himself uncomfortably pressed against the side of the car.

 

The second had longer, dark hair, which he had just pulled free of its binding and shook loose, running his fingers through it. He was lankier, had a more graceful way of moving than the first, something Remus thought odd. He looked as if he had also changed recently, but instead of his uniform, he was wearing muggle clothes. Another oddity. He got the impression that the two boys had grown up together, or at least that they had known each other for a long time. They were talking fast and laughing loudly. Once they were settled, Remus reached back into his trunk and pulled out his book. He was more than ready to read now, hoping it would stop them from talking to him, sitting the book on his lap as he closed his trunk.

 

“Oi. You can put that up, you know,” the boy with the long hair said, giving him a smile.

 

“Already told him that,” Peter murmured, just now moving his eyes from the window.

 

“Very astute observation,” The one with the glasses said, laughing. “Don’t know how you figured it out from looking out the window. Train’s not even moving, mate.” The boy with the long hair laughed, and Peter rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m not the one who refuses to stow their trunk.”

 

“I’m not – refusing. It’s just...more convenient this way,” Remus said, feeling the need to stick up for himself.

 

“James, he’s trying to _read_ ,” The long haired boy said, a hint of disgust in his voice, as his eyes fell to the book in Remus’ lap.

 

The boy with the glasses, apparently called James, gasped. “Read? On the way to _school_? How? Why?”

 

“We can’t allow it. It isn’t right. Enjoy the last moments of your freedom, will you?”

 

Remus looked at the book in his lap, then back up to the boy with long hair, who was looking at him expectantly. He sighed, sliding the book back into his trunk.

 

“See? It is convenient. Imagine if it was under my seat, would have had to stand up and everything. Besides,” Remus continued. “I may not know how to store my trunk, but I at least know how to put on a cloak.” He jerked his head in James’ direction. James, just now having realized how off-kilter his cloak was, tugged it on straight with a laugh.

 

“That’s much better. Save the textbooks for the classroom. We’re going to be doing enough reading to bore me to sleep for the next seven lifetimes. What’s your name, anyway?” The long haired boy was looking at him again.

 

“Remus Lupin. You?”

 

“Sirius Black. This one’s James Potter, by the way. Lovely to meet you.” He was grinning.

 

“Absolutely charmed,” Peter interjected, annoyed that he was being excluded. “Peter Pettigrew, by the way. Did I hear you right? You’re a Black?”

 

“Of the Noble and Most Ancient House,” Sirius replied, in a voice thick with mockery.

 

“Wow,” Peter said, looking at Sirius with something new in his eyes. “I’ve heard loads about your family.” Remus had never heard anything about the Black family, but that was likely due to the fact he didn’t know many wizarding surnames. His family kept them somewhat isolated.

 

“Yeah, well, they’re all terrible, so forget what you’ve heard,” Sirius said, his face curling up in disgust. “Every single one of them. Well, except Andromeda, but you’ve really got to catch her on the right day. My brother’s not so bad, either, but it’s only a matter of time before my Mum gets to him, too.”

 

“Meanwhile, nobody is asking the brilliant son of the illustrious potion maker, Fleamont Potter, about his family history,” James said, with a dramatic sigh. He punctuated his distaste by falling back into his seat.  “How many things has my dad invented only to get upstaged by the Noble and Most Ancient House of Whatever, No One Cares? Honestly.”

 

“I’ve never heard of either of you,” Remus said, truthfully. He was beginning to wonder if he was the only non-Pureblood in the room. The idea made him uneasy – would they care? Would they treat him differently?

 

“That’s probably a good thing, mate.” Remus didn’t think that he imagined that Sirius looked a little bit relieved.

 

Still, Peter persisted. “Your whole family’s in Slytherin.” There was a hint of awe in his voice.

 

“Not me,” Sirius said, as confidently as if he’d already been sorted. “I’m going to be in Gryffindor.”

 

“Quite right you are, with me. My whole family’s been in Gryffindor. I think my mom’s got a second cousin who got sorted into Hufflepuff, but that’s not so bad,” James said, reaching across to pat Sirius’ arm.

 

“I’m probably going to be in Hufflepuff,” Peter said, a hint of dismay in his voice.

 

“What about you, Remus? Where do you think you’ll end up?” Sirius asked.

 

Remus definitely did not feel particularly brave, so Gryffindor was out. He wasn’t especially smart, so he didn’t think he’d end up in Ravenclaw. He thought he might end up in Slytherin, except he was a half blood and a werewolf, a double no. Even Hufflepuff seemed out of his ability range.

 

“I’m probably going to end up sick.” It was the most honest future he could imagine for himself.

 

“Nah,” Sirius said, a smile on his face. “You’ll be in Gryffindor with me. With _all_ of us. Except maybe that one.” He cocked his head towards Peter.

 

“That’s fair,” Peter said, with a small shrug. “Gryffindor’ll be the _last_ place that hat puts me.”

 

“Sirius is right,” James said, clapping Remus hard on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll end up with us. And if not, you’ll be our bitter rival, and we’ll never speak to you again.” Remus’ face must have given away his worry, because James erupted into laughter. “Only joking! You went white as a sheet. Don’t worry, we don’t abandon our friends.”

Remus offered him a nervous smile, his brain getting lost somewhere around the word friend. Friends? They were friends? Already? Was making friends always this easy? His eyes flickered from James to Sirius and finally to Peter. “Thanks,” he managed to say, though James and Sirius had long moved onto another topic of conversation.

 

“There’s only three hidden passageways out of the castle, that’s what my dad said, and he’s the inventor of Sleekazy’s Hair Potion, and therefore cannot be wrong -”

 

“Bollocks, my cousin Andromeda says she’s found at least four, but she won’t tell me where they are, says I’ve gotta find them for myself.”

 

Remus listened to their conversation with interest, but found that he had nothing to contribute. His father had never told him of any passages out of the castle, probably in an effort to protect him. He always thought Remus needed more protecting than he really did. The ache from the full moon was still in his bones, though, and he found himself drifting off to sleep, despite how badly he wanted to keep talking.

 

\-------

 

“Alberic Grunnion. A true hero. Too bad I’ve got about 20 of him now.”

 

Remus awoke to the sound of James’ voice, and the feel of something hitting him on the nose. Opening his eyes and reaching up, he discovered a chocolate frog card. He didn’t collect - he had never had anyone to trade with - but he liked the chocolate well enough.

 

“Sorry about that, bad aim. You can keep that one if you like,” James said, fingers busy opening another box.

 

“About time you woke up, anyway,” Sirius said, flicking an empty box at him.

 

“Sorry,” he said, chucking the box at James, who was too busy reading the back of his newest card to deflect the blow.

 

“All right, you’ve had your revenge. That's enough. And look, I’ve got Bowman Wright,” he said, shoving the card in Sirius’ face.

 

“Yeah, Bowman’s cool, if you’ve never opened a chocolate frog before,” Sirius replied, playfully pushing James’ hand out of his face. He reached into his pile of sweets to grab another frog, extending it to Remus. “You want one? You were sleeping when the trolley came by, and we decided it’d be better not to wake you.”

 

Remus eyed the box in Sirius’ hand. “Oh, no thank you,” he said, trying to think of an excuse not to take it. “I, um, I don’t actually, er, I don’t like chocolate.” He hoped it would be enough to dissuade him from offering anything further.

 

Instead, Sirius scrunched his face up, raising his eyebrow. He glanced at James, who gave him a knowing look, and then back at Remus. “You what? _You don’t like chocolate?_ ”

 

“Bollocks,” James said, mirroring the look Sirius was giving him.

 

“No, really, it’s, um -” Remus was trying to think of something clever to say, but Sirius had unboxed the frog, and was holding it very close to his face. It wiggled, struggling to escape his grasp.

 

“Oh come on, just take it,” Sirius coaxed, waving it gently in front of him. It smelled wonderful, and Remus found himself wondering if it would be more rude to refuse or to just accept the gift. A surge of pain from the wounds on his back made his mind up for him. He took the frog from Sirius’ hand and took a careful bite. He closed his eyes, letting the chocolate melt on his tongue.

 

James, Sirius, and Peter all began to laugh at him. And then he was being pelted with chocolates.

 

“That’s certainly the face of someone who doesn’t like chocolate, all right,” James said, tossing another frog at him between laughs.

 

“You’re an awful liar,” Sirius said. “You ought to let James and I do the lying for you from now on.”

 

“Sounds like a deal,” Remus said, around a mouthful of chocolate. “You can lie for me anytime. I’m no good under pressure.” He opened another box to find Godric Gryffindor staring back at him, sword in hand. He smiled, raising the card to show the rest. “Looks like you lot were right, after all.”

 

“Always am,” Sirius said, sifting through his new cards.

 

“You’ve got the look about you. All mighty, and lion-y. Gotta be a Gryffindor,” James teased, nudging him in the ribs.

 

Remus found himself feeling much lighter and warmer than when he entered the train, and for once, he doubted it had anything to do with the chocolate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate that no one thus far as pointed out that this is technically canon divergent...I just wanted to tell my own story of how they met. ;)


	2. Toujours Pur

Remus had ended up in Gryffindor despite his doubt in himself, as had the rest of the boys on the train. They shared a dorm as they had shared a train compartment, and being surrounded by people who liked him – actually liked him – made Remus feel immediately at ease. James and Sirius, of course, were inseparable – whispering through their bed curtains, returning to sleep at odd hours of the night. Their laughter and conversation kept him up many nights, but he enjoyed hearing them, often waiting for the opportunity to be included. 

 

He never had to wait long. If he was silent for longer than they wished, a sock or sweater would come sailing through his curtains. Whether James or Sirius or Peter, he could never be sure, though he had a sneaking suspicion that it was usually Sirius. Especially when…

 

“Are these embroidered?” He asked one night, holding the socks up to the light of the moon. Silver thread knit a cursive SB, and below that. “Is that a crest? The initials weren’t enough? Toujours pur,” he read, studying the design. “Sounds like a fancy way of saying something awful.”

 

“Right again, Lupin,” Sirius replied, his voice strangely absent of its usual warmth. “It means ‘always pure’.”

 

“They put your crest on your socks?” came James’ voice. “That’s bonkers.”

 

“It’s bad enough that they seem to think you’ll forget your name,” said Peter. “It’s a good thing your socks are there to remind you.”

 

“I’m sure they’re more worried that I will forget the House motto,” Sirius muttered. 

 

“What are these made out of, anyway?” Remus asked, running his hands across the material. They felt soft and heavy, like they must be very warm. Very different from the ones he was used to – most of his socks were old, worn down. None came with a family crest, but some did come with a few holes. 

 

“Pretentious ideas about blood purity,” James said, getting a laugh out of Sirius.

 

“Keep them, Remus,” Sirius said, sounding lighter than he had moments ago.

 

“What?” Remus replied, incredulously. 

 

“Keep them. I don’t want them. Not with that stupid crest on them. I say we give them all away, find the students with the least magical blood. Toujours pur that.”

 

“Your feet will be cold,” Remus said, unsure of how to comfort his friend. It seemed to work, though, because Sirius’ barking laugh came as a response. 

 

“It’s okay, I’ll just steal some of James’, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

 

“Not the fluffy ones,” James said, sounding half asleep. 

 

A loud snore came from Peter’s side of the room, interrupting their conversation.

 

“Well, since Peter is rude, I suppose we should go to sleep,” Sirius said, turning over in his bed.  
“Goodnight, then.”

 

“Goodnight,” Remus replied, tossing the socks in the general vicinity of his trunk.

 

“’Night,” James murmured, face presumably obscured by his pillow.

 

Remus woke late the next morning to find that his friends had already gone down to breakfast. He dressed quickly, pulling a sweater on over his shirt so that no one would notice his crooked tie. He hesitated briefly before pulling on the socks Sirius gave to him, closed his trunk, and headed down to join the others. 

 

He didn’t have time to eat a full breakfast, so he grabbed a piece of toast and slathered it generously with jam before he headed off to his first class. Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws – not a terrible way to start the day. He was more worried about Flying with the Slytherins – he never had a broom of his own to practice on, and most of his peers seemed to have plenty of experience. 

 

He was halfway out of the Great Hall when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see an older Slytherin girl, with wide, dark eyes and long dark hair. She was accompanied by another Slytherin girl, still older than Remus, with a pale, pointed face and blonde hair. The brunette was giving him a smile that made his stomach twist. 

 

“Remus Lupin, isn’t it?” She said, and her eyes flickered down his body. She was giving him a once-over, yet there was nothing but disapproval in her gaze. “You’ve been hanging about with our cousin.”

 

Ah. That explained things, somewhat, Remus thought. 

 

“Sirius?” He asked, though he was fairly certain he knew the answer. 

 

“Yes,” she replied, stepping closer to him. “Has he never mentioned us? I’m Bellatrix. My sister, Narcissa.” The blonde haired girl nodded as she was introduced. “Blacks. Both of us. Just like Sirius.”

 

“Fantastic,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Whatever she wanted, he hadn’t the time, he was going to be late for class. “If you’ll excuse me, I haven’t really got the time to bow-”

 

Bellatrix snarled, stepping in front of him to block his exit. Her fingers curled around her wand, and Remus knew it was an idle threat. “Not yet, I’m afraid,” she said. “That Potter boy – he’s a pureblood, his family is respectable. Think somewhere back in the line we actually married in. A Gryffindor, but not everyone can be perfect.” She frowned, but it quickly turned into a wicked smile. “You, on the other hand...” She twirled the wand in her hand as she spoke. “Lupin. Not a familiar name. Definitely not of notable magical lineage.”

 

“That’s me, not of notable magical lineage, all right,” he said, feeling defiant, especially standing in Sirius’ socks. “My mother’s a muggle, if that’s what you care about. So, if you’re quite done-”

 

“No,” she said, her face a scowl. “I knew it. Our cousin, friends with a halfblood. Deplorable. I knew he fancied himself a rebel, but this...is disgusting. Unless.” An idea struck her, her dark eyes widening. “He doesn’t know?”

 

Remus’ face told her all she needed to know.

 

“He doesn’t know,” she repeated, letting loose a shrill laugh. “Oh, I can’t wait until he finds out. There’s hope for him yet. He’ll want nothing to do with you when you tell him. You know that, right? You’re nothing, not to us, not to this family.”

 

“No,” Remus protested, but it was weak. He had been worried ever since he met Sirius that his blood status would get in the way of their friendship. If Bellatrix was right – the knot in his stomach twisted even tighter at the thought.

 

She laughed again, stepping out of his way. “I don’t have to convince you. You’ll see. Auntie Burga’d have a fit if she knew about this, anyway. And,” she leaned in close to him as she passed. “If I see our crest on your body again, you filthy halfbreed, I will hex you until you are no longer capable of speech.” Her shrill laugh was in his ear, and Remus felt the tip of her wand pressed hard against his ribs, but she did not cast a spell. “Run along, boy, don’t you have a class to be in?”

 

By the time he made it to Transfiguration, he was late enough to cause a scene as he entered. He earned his first detention for it, and though Sirius had saved him a seat, he slid in next to James. The lingering uneasiness he felt from his altercation with Bellatrix was all he thought about during his lesson. He deflected the jokes whispered to him and focused on taking more thorough notes than he ever had before instead. If the others noticed something was off about him, they didn’t mention it, at least not until after class.

 

He had to stay behind to get his detention assigned, and by the time it was done, all of the other students had filed out, headed to their second class. He slung his bag over his shoulder and left. As soon as he exited the classroom he realized Sirius had stayed behind to wait for him.

 

“I’d almost be proud of you, if your first detention wasn’t for something so lame,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. 

 

“Yeah,” Remus said, eyes on the floor.

 

“All right, what’s got your knickers in a twist? First, you’re late, and you’ve been all moody since you showed up. Are you upset we didn’t wake you up?”

 

“No.”

 

“I know missing breakfast didn’t rob you of your ability to talk, Remus.”

 

“I met Bellatrix this morning,” Remus said, bringing his eyes to meet Sirius’ for the first time. Sirius’ face fell immediately, but he didn’t respond. “And Narcissa.”

 

“Ah,” was all Sirius said. “Explains why you’re late.”

 

“Yeah. She had a lot to say. Asked me about my family.” He thought it would be best not to mention anything about the small bruise her wand tip left on his rib cage. 

 

“Listen, I-” Sirius had turned to face him now.

 

“Sirius, I’m a half blood, okay? My mum’s a muggle. If that’s a problem for you -”

 

“What? No. No, I don’t – Merlin, is that what they said?”

 

“Yes. Something about how you wouldn’t – well it doesn’t matter – I didn’t really believe them, but it’s just that James is a Pureblood, and Peter’s...Peter. I’m...not, I’m just -”

 

“Remus.” Sirius placed his hands on Remus’ shoulders, as if to steady him. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, Remus brought his gaze up to meet Sirius’. “I don’t care, all right? I don’t care. About them. About any of it. Especially not your damned blood status. It doesn’t matter. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Blimey, Remus, I thought you knew...I thought you knew that I wasn’t like that, like them.”

“I do, it’s just, I don’t know, okay? I thought I ought to get it out of the way now, in case you were secretly a huge prat.” Remus felt himself relax. At least that. 

Sirius responded with a laugh, shaking his head. “Come on, now, Lupin, I’m not secretly anything. I couldn’t keep a secret if I tried. I am very obviously a huge prat.” He swung an arm around Remus. “We better go. You don’t want to be late twice in one day. It’d ruin your shining reputation.”

“Please,” Remus said, as they turned to walk down the corridor. “You don’t care about my shining reputation. You just want to be the one to ruin it.”

“Correct again,” Sirius said, “as if I would let anyone else have that honor. How dare my cousin be the first person to cause you to get a detention. That title was meant for me or James.”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunity in the future to land me in detention.”

“Ah, promises, promises, Remus,” Sirius said, shooting him a grin as they entered the Charms classroom.


	3. Waxing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first full moon at Hogwarts approaches.

Remus’ first month at Hogwarts had flown by. He found that he loved learning, far more than the others in his group did(James and Sirius thought studying boring, and Peter vowed solemnly that no amount of studying could help him). He liked every class, but found himself particularly drawn to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps it was because he was naturally adept at it, in a way that rivaled James and Sirius. His worst class was Potions, which only drove him to work harder.

Having grown up secluded from magical society, being immersed in it was invigorating. Everything he had ever wanted to know seemed to be right at his fingertips. He was happier than he could ever remember being, not least of all due to his friends. As time went on he felt less like the third wheel to the antics of James and Sirius, and more like an equal. As he got more comfortable around them, he discovered he had a penchant for quick-witted quips and a thirst for mischief he never thought himself capable of.

Still, the threat of the full moon was always looming over him. The week leading up to it he drove himself nearly sick with anxiety, and spent a lot of time alone in his dorm. The day before thehis transformation, Sirius appeared with armfuls of food he pilfered from the kitchens. 

“Get up, Remus!” Sirius called, throwing open his bed curtains. Remus squinted at the light that came pouring through. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, though the answer was obvious. Sirius had dropped a tray of sandwiches onto his lap, and was now handing him a goblet of pumpkin juice as he took a seat on the end of his bed.

“Feeding you, you toad. You haven't eaten in days. Take this.” He handed him a sandwich. “Don't worry, I know you're not fond of ham.”

“That's not true. I ate-” He thought for a moment. Oh. Sirius was right. He had been so concerned with the full moon, he had forgotten to eat since Thursday night. He hadn't even realized, with so many other things preoccupying his mind. How had Sirius noticed? Remus stared at the goblet in his hand and then to the sandwich Sirius had forced upon him. “Why are you always trying to get me to eat things? A chocolate frog, sandwiches, a cockroach cluster-”

“That was one time, and only because James told me they were some kind of weird South American truffles, and you love chocolate. I was trying to look out for you. I'm wounded you would even suggest otherwise.”

Remus sighed reluctantly. He should eat. He'd only feel weaker after it was over if he didn't. He took a bite of the sandwich and watched a wide grin spread over Sirius’ face. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he was reaching for seconds. Sirius just watched him, taking the occasional swig of pumpkin juice. He swallowed the last bit of the second sandwich with a contented hum. He would never be able to figure out how they made something so simple taste so good. 

“Why aren't you eating?” Remus asked, shamelessly taking another sandwich.

“I ate dinner. And lunch. And breakfast. And again when I went to grab these for you. The house elves wanted to feed me snacks while I waited.” He bounced his brows with a grin. 

“Thank you,” Remus said, around a mouthful of food. He worried that bits of turkey would fly out and undermine his sincerity. He should have thanked him earlier. He should thank him again.

Sirius waved his hand as if to dismiss the thanks. “It's fine. Just don't make me have to come up here and force feed you again. Promise me you'll come to breakfast tomorrow?”

Remus nodded vigorously as he chewed. He never wanted to go so long without food again. He thought of the sausages and pancakes and toast that would be waiting for him tomorrow. “Yes. Absolutely. Yes.”

Sirius smiled, then drained his glass. “All right, I'll let you alone then. A word of warning, though. James and I will forcibly drag you from this bed if you do not uphold your promise.”

“I grant you and James full permission to forcibly drag me from my bed if I do not uphold my promise.” Remus raised his right hand to cement the seriousness of his statement.

“Can I get that in writing? You think McGonagall would notarize it for us, or should we go straight to Dumbledore?”

Remus laughed. “This is a very important matter. We ought to head straight to the Minister. No time for the subordinates.”

Sirius chuckled as he pulled the curtains of his bed closed, and walked to the door. 

“Oi!” Remus called, peeking through the curtains. “Thanks again!”

“Come off it, Lupin,” Sirius said, though there was a hint of something in the softness of his voice that told Remus he appreciated it.

\-----

The following day passed in a blur. The full moon had always been terrifying, but being here, alone, it was worse. He had never transformed without his parents nearby. He felt like there were so many chances for something to go wrong. What if he broke out? What if he hurt Madam Pomfrey? What if he bit someone? There were people everywhere...he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did. That, and he would get expelled from Hogwarts.

His stomach twisted. He missed his parents suddenly and very much, then. They always offered him words of comfort, helped him prepare for the transformation. His mother would rub circles on his back to soothe him, his father ready with chocolate. Though he was mostly used to the pain by now, knowing it was coming still scared him. 

His friends were downstairs, playing chess and gobstones by the fire. He wished he could join them. They had never known worry like this. He tried not to allow himself think of what being normal would be like, but being surrounded by normal made it hard. He was jealous of everyone who would go to sleep safe in their beds tonight, snoring as he was in pain. He was jealous, and he hated himself for it. He wished he could tell his friends where he was going, about what he was. He had never been able to confide in anyone about his condition, never even had anyone to confide in, but if there was anyone who could possibly be understanding, it was the three boys by the fire. Maybe - maybe one day he could tell them. Maybe one day he wouldn't have to face it alone.

He finished packing his rucksack - a fresh set of clothes, a few bars of chocolate, a book to read while he recovered in the hospital wing. He pulled his bag on and left the dormitory. He was going to have to lie to them, and the thought of that made him easily twice as anxious. He was awful at lying. He would have to sneak out as quickly as possible. 

When he arrived downstairs, he saw James and Sirius locked in a battle of chess. Peter sat nearby, upside down in one of the squishy arm chairs. He was making notes in the margins of one of his essays.

“Hey! Remus, proofread this, will you?” He called.

“Sorry, I can't right now,” He said, trying to walk briskly past the boys and to the portrait hole.

“Remus! How nice of you to join us,” Sirius said, as he moved a knight to take one of James’ rooks. James responded by cursing loudly. 

“I can't stay,” He said, studying the board. “You should move your knight - just - there.” James followed Remus’ instructions, and was able to take Sirius’ queen. It was Sirius’ turn to curse, while James sniggered in delight. 

“The betrayal stings, Lupin, it stings,” Sirius said, moving a pawn. “Why can't you stay? Headed to the Library again?”

“Er, no,” He said, ducking his face. Here goes nothing. He swallowed. “I have to go home. To visit my mum. She's ill.” James and Sirius raised their brows and shared a look. 

“What's wrong with her?”

“I'm not sure. The letter didn't say. I'll find out soon, I bet.” Oh, he was so bad at this. Sirius opened his mouth to question him further but James shot him a look that made him close it.

“Oh, well I hope she feels better, then. When are you coming back?” James asked, sliding his queen down the board.

“Should be back the day after next, if everything goes all right.” Merlin, was it over? This was almost worse than what waited for him outside. 

“Well, these two days won't be the same without you, mate,” James said, moving a rook. “Check.”

“I'll miss you lot, too. I'll take your essay, Peter, I should have some free time.” He extended a hand to grab it.

“You are an actual saint,” Peter replied, handing it over.

“More like an actual madman,” Sirius grumbled, moving his king. Remus shoved the essay in his bag.

“Well, I better be off. See you in a few days.” He waved goodbye to them weakly before heading out of the portrait hole. 

He reached the Hospital Wing in much less time than he thought he would. One minute, he was walking out of the Common Room, and the next, he was standing in a dimly lit corridor in front of the doors with several knots in his stomach. He had two hours to spare. Dumbledore hadn’t confided in him where he would be going, only that it was a safe space far from the Hogwarts grounds. He took a final, steadying breath, and pushed the doors open.

Madam Pomfrey had been waiting for him, her hands wringing. He saw no other students present in the ward, and wondered if it was good luck or if special arrangements had been made. She smiled when she saw him, but it was a sad smile. He could see pity in it, but he didn’t blame her. He was pitiful. He tried to smile back, but felt it fall across his face like a grimace. 

“Good evening, Remus,” she said, walking over to him and placing a kind hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to be so worried. We’ve been very careful. Dumbledore has taken care of everything. When it’s all over, I will properly tend to your wounds. The aftermath should hurt a lot less than you are used to.”

He was comforted by her words, but not much. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as every other time.

“Where are we going?” He couldn’t help but ask. He needed to make sure it was safe.

“You’ve noticed the Whomping Willow?” She asked. “Thriving. Professor Sprout has been taking excellent care of it. It’s thriving. It is also concealing a passageway to a shack in Hogsmeade. Dumbledore himself has warded it to make sure you are kept inside. The Willow will attack anything that draws close to it. The more experienced students know to never go near it, and I believe the First Years learn quickly.”

He nodded. His werewolf form was strong, but it wouldn’t be able to take on magic as strong as the Headmaster’s. The fear that he could hurt someone left him, and only the fear of the pain that would come remained. Madam Pomfrey instructed him to change behind a set of bed curtains, providing him a hospital gown to wear. 

“So nothing happens to your clothes,” She assured him, when she took his bag. “I’ll bring it back to you when I fetch you in the morning.” 

They walked to the Willow in silence, Pomfrey’s hand on his shoulder the entire way. She didn’t have to be kind to him, and he had come to expect no kindness when people were faced with the reality of what he was, but she was. He would remember to thank her when this was all over. And, he would try to keep his friends from landing anyone into the infirmary, including themselves. 

When they reached the base of the tree, he watched as she poked a particular knot in the base of the tree. The entire tree stilled, and revealed a passageway.

“Remember that,” She said. “The knot. It’s the only safe way to enter. I don’t know how long I will be able to escort you.” She turned to face him, giving him a sad smile once more. “All you must do is enter the passageway, and follow the tunnel. You’ll be able to enter an old house. You will be safe there. I wish you good luck, and I will see you in the morning.”

“Thank you,” He said, as he looked up into her face. “You didn’t have to-”

“Hush,” She scoffed, still smiling. “I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. You’re my patient, you know.” She brought her hands to his face, then dropped them to his shoulders. “Off you go, then.”

He turned into the passageway. It was darker than he anticipated, and he hadn’t brought his wand. He didn’t want it to get smashed in the fray. He was always smashing things in his werewolf form, causing enough damage to his parents’ homes that he felt guilty even now. At least there would be nothing of value for him to destroy here. 

After what seems like an eternity he enters the old house. It, too, is dark - the only light coming from the stars and the moon hanging ominously in the sky. He used that to keep track of time, nervously watching as it rose higher and higher. The last thing he remembers before he transforms is the light, pale and streaming through the boarded windows. 

Then, there is only pain.


	4. Waning

When he transforms, there is nothing but sensation. The part of him that he knows is him, the part of him that can talk and laugh, ceases to be. He can’t think, he can’t choose - he just is. At first it feels like burning - every single sinew and nerve on fire, they stretch and pull and remold themselves. He feels his bones grow bigger, and snap, and change beneath his skin, until his skin isn’t his skin anymore, until patches of ragged fur burst through. He becomes nothing but claws and teeth and hunger. The pain is white hot, immense, it is all he can feel until he’s sure he won’t be able to survive this, and yet it keeps hurting. He howls and whines as he changes, he waits for it to be over, it always seems to last longer than he remembers. 

And then finally, finally, it’s done. He’s hungry, and some primal part of him knows he is trapped. The wolf flings itself at the door, over and over, until its shoulder is bleeding. He scrapes large paws against the exit and his claws tear through wood, but the door doesn’t move. He snarls at the air, snaps at nothing. He’s growling, a low, full body growl. He’s hungry, starving, but there’s nothing alive in this room. His body aches with pain, his shoulder throbbing unpleasantly. He chews through chair tables and legs, the wood splintering in his mouth until he tastes blood. It does nothing to satiate his hunger. 

He charges at the walls, scrapes at the floor. He wants to leave - needs to - but he can’t. He doesn’t understand why the wood won’t crumble like it has before. He can smell people, far away, he can smell the food they cook. He could find them, if he could only get out. The scent paired with the pang in his stomach agonizes him. He sniffs, and drops his muzzle to his own leg. He pauses, snarls, and bites. The pain is sharp but it’s quickly overpowered by the smell and feel of blood, of meat. He uses his back legs to scratch himself, ripping through flesh. It goes on like this for hours, until he has exhausted himself. 

At least He can’t smell the humans anymore.

\-------

Remus awakes in the Hospital Wing with no recollection of how he got there. His whole body hurts, but it’s a distant pain. He takes a shaky breath and realizes he might have a broken rib. He knows he must have slept a lot, but he is still tired, the exhaustion is set deep in his bones. He props himself up on his elbow and that brings a fresh wave of pain, he winces and tries to steady his breathing. There’s chocolate on his bed side table, a large slab from Honeyduke’s. He reaches for it and breaks off a hefty piece. The first bite is nothing short of incredible, a warmth washes over him that makes the pain in his body seem smaller. It’s so good he wants to cry. Instead, he takes another bite. 

Madam Pomfrey finds him like this, perched on an elbow, halfway through the bar of chocolate. 

“Good, good, you should eat that. I’ve got another waiting for you. Try not to sit up, not yet. You did a nasty number on yourself last night,” she says, as she fusses over his bed. She straightens his pillows, pulls his blanket up. He can see her eyes taking stock of his wounds, as well. “That rib will be all right in a few more hours. I’ve managed to heal quite a few of the cuts and scratches already. You’ll have a few scars, but I can see that you are used to that by now. That shoulder will require a bit of care for a few days - I’ve bandaged you up and I’ve got a sling waiting. If anyone asks tell them you fell off your broom - that’s common enough, trust me.” She stops fussing with him and smiles. 

“What time is it?” He asks, and his voice sounds tired and worn. He’s suddenly very thirsty.

“A bit past 8 o’ clock. On Sunday.”

He groans. “Already? I slept two days?” He tries to get up, but the pain keeps him from getting very far. “I’ve got to get back, I told them I'd be back today, they'll be worried-”

“Oh no you don’t, not until that rib is fully healed. Do you know what sort of damage you could do to yourself if you try to leave this bed? Absolutely no way will I allow it.” Her face has gone stern, her mouth a severe, thin line. Remus finds it oddly amusing. She notices his smile and barks an order to combat it. “Finish your chocolate.”

“All right, okay,” He complies, taking another bite. “But...when my rib is healed, can I leave?”

“Nonsense. It won't be until around 11. Far too late for you to be out of bed. You ought to stay another night.”

He feels his face drop. “If I don't go back tonight, they'll realize I've lied to them. I'll have to lie to them again. What if they don't believe me?” He's trying to be clever. Sirius could definitely sell this. He winces, trying to look as pathetic as possible.

Madam Pomfrey frowns. Then, she sighs. “Fine. You may return tonight. But, you must come in for a check up tomorrow immediately after classes, and I will escort you back to the Gryffindor dormitory tonight myself.”

Remus grins so hard that it hurts. Madam Pomfrey procures another hunk of chocolate from her robes and sets it on his bedside table. “Remember - you’re not to move from this bed. I’ll be back to check on you.”

He nods, and shoves another bite of chocolate into his mouth. He could probably sleep through this, and his body certainly wants him to. Instead, he grabs Peter’s essay, and begins to read through it. It’s not as bad as he thinks it is, it just needs a little work. Peter’s problem is that he is too often trying to compare himself to James and Sirius. 

\-------

Sirius is _bored_. James has already fallen asleep, knackered from their impromptu Quidditch practice. This school ought to do a better job of keeping their things locked up if they really don’t want First Years playing.

Sirius, on the other hand, can’t sleep. He is filled with restless energy, and he’s worried because Remus isn’t back yet. He even tried to wake Peter to entertain him, but he just rolled over like he had never even heard him. With the rest of the marauders otherwise occupied, it looks like Sirius is on his own. He grabs James’ invisibility cloak from the trunk at the end of his bed.

“Sorry, mate,” He whispers in the darkness. “Consider this me asking.” James responds with a loud snore. “See? I knew you wouldn’t mind.” He throws the cloak around his shoulders and walks out of the Common Room. 

He thinks about going to the Kitchens. Food is always a good substitute for boredom, but he doubts it’ll do anything for anxiety he feels. He needs to do something. He thinks about breaking into Filch’s stores again, but he and James just grabbed all of the good stuff last week. He could light off dungbombs outside the Slytherin Common Room, but he doubt the smell would reach any of them, if they were even up. 

Pranking just isn’t as good when no one’s awake to appreciate it. 

He wanders the corridors, hoping something will catch his interest. He has a run in with Mrs. Norris, but he’s grown pretty adept at escaping her at this point. Despite himself, he keeps thinking about Remus. What if something’s really wrong with his Mum? What if something’s really wrong with him? 

James told him to stop asking questions. Sirius was never really good at holding his tongue, or listening to the advice of his betters. That’s why, when he sees the doors to the Hospital Wing, he slips inside. He holds his breath for a few moments after he enters, listening. When he doesn’t see Madam Pomfrey, he begins to explore. 

“Hah,” He says, as he passes one of the beds. Severus Snape is laying there, looking like he took some kind of a potion to the face. No wonder he and James haven’t been able to find him over the weekend. 

The infirmary seems pretty empty. He spots the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team a few beds away from Snape. Must’ve fallen from his broom. There’s a girl he doesn’t recognize, there, too - an older Ravenclaw, by the look of her robes. He’s about to give up when he notices something. 

There’s a section entirely blocked off at the end of the wing. Beds are piled next to each other, obscuring the path. He’s pretty sure he can get to the other side if he climbs into them, he’ll just have to be very, very careful. He takes a seat, then slowly, carefully raises his legs over the bars of the bed. He just has to make it over the other side --

\------

Remus hears a crash.

He drops the essay, and attempts to crane his neck to see what could have caused it. He can’t see anything. It takes him all of three seconds to figure out what must have happened. Before he can react, Madam Pomfrey is back in his room.

“I told you not to leave your bed -” She looks angry, and has her wand raised. She flicks her wrist and Remus hears the sound of something being rearranged.

“I didn’t! Look, I haven’t moved. I’ve been right here the whole time, I swear!” The blankets are still tucked under him the way she left them.

“Did you see anything?” She asks, her eyes narrowed. 

“No!” He told himself it wasn’t a lie. “I didn’t see anything, just heard, a loud, what was that, anyway?”

“Never you mind, Lupin,” she says, scanning the room. When she’s satisfied that Remus hasn’t moved and that there’s nothing in the room with him, she softens. “How are you feeling?”

“Just fine,” Remus replies. “I think my ribs’s almost done, probably good as new by now. We should go soon.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” She says, and she’s over to check it immediately. She stretches his arm and he groans. “Not yet. I told you. 11. And finish your chocolate.”

“Yes, Madam,” Remus sighs. He begrudgingly takes another bite. He loves chocolate, but he could use something real to eat. 

She’s not two seconds out of the door when he hears it.

“Merlin’s bloody beard, Remus.” It’s Sirius, beneath the cloak.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, and makes to snatch where he thinks the sound is coming from. He extends his arm and then retracts it immediately with a grunt. “Bad idea.”

“What are _you_ doing? Where have you been? You said you’d be back already. I knew something was wrong.” Wherever Sirius was, he’s not there anymore. He’s trying to make sure Remus won’t be able to pin him down.

“Will you be quiet?” Remus says, glaring from one end of the room to the other, just to be safe. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble. What were you thinking?”

“Me? You’re already beaten to hell, Remus, looks like you’re in enough trouble on your own. What happened to you?”

Remus sighs, and grits his teeth. “It was an accident, okay? It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. I’ll be seeing you in the Gryffindor Tower in less than two hours. We can talk then.”

Not that Remus can see it, but Sirius opens his mouth to protest. “Yeah, all right. Two hours. Don’t think I’ll forget, or you can skive me off, or lie again.”

Remus winces, and he can hear the rustle of the cloak as Sirius turns to leave. 

“One more thing, Sirius,” He says, turning to the doorway. “Look at me.” He waits for a few seconds, and then Sirius’ face is staring at him, hovering in the darkness. “You can’t tell anyone that I was here.” Sirius smirks, and opens his mouth to say something. Remus cuts him off. “No, really. Why do you think I’m back here by myself? Don’t say anything. Please. Promise me.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. He thinks for a few moments, then sighs, resigned. “Fine. All right. I promise not to tell any of our best mates where you’ve been, because you, Remus John Lupin, are insistent upon living a life full of secrets and lies.”

Sirius’ head disappears under the cloak, and Remus falls back onto his bed. He’ll never be able to explain to this, not without having to lie again. He was in for a long night.


End file.
